


steps

by SunflowerEnthusiast



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Assassins AU, M/M, apparently I picked the most obscure ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 12:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11081445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerEnthusiast/pseuds/SunflowerEnthusiast
Summary: Six and Quatre have never been friends, but when Six finds himself in a pinch, Siete dumps Quatre on him to help him.





	steps

**Author's Note:**

> シスカト

Six stares at the young man standing in front of him, unimpressed.

Quatre, equally as unimpressed with the situation, whirls on his heel and glares up at a laughing Siete. “Toumoku!” He growls, irritated. His eyes are glinting dangerously as Siete continues to laugh at him, but Quatre doesn’t push his leader any farther than that, waiting for Siete to stop laughing.

“Sorry, kiddo, but someone had to teach ‘im to dance,” Siete chuckles, ruffling Quatre’s hair affectionately. Quatre glares up at him, the expression on his face very, _very_ annoyed, and then turns back to Six, still glaring. Six glares right back, because he would rather not be in this situation.

Six wiped out the entirety of his clan when he was younger, but after going on a journey with a man he looked up to and taught him nearly everything he knows, he realized that he couldn’t just abandon the clan’s name even after he destroyed it. He came back to reassume the Karm Clan’s activities—as much as he’d like to see the name sink into the earth and never resurface, he continues operating under the clan’s name, unwilling to let his father’s clan completely die out. And, at any rate, since the person he went on his journey with has left for another one, he has nothing better to do than assassinate unsavory people.

Unfortunately, his current target is almost always invulnerable to any assassinations since he stays locked up in his mansion most of the time, and is heavily guarded the rest of the time, but there is an exception. He hosts a grand party every month because he thinks it’s ‘fun,’ and that exposes him the most. If Six wants to assassinate him, then he has to get into the party.

But getting into the party not only requires to know how to dance because dancing is, for some inane reason, mandatory, but he also needs a date.

Well, Quatre could certainly pass for a girl, but…

Since he wouldn’t be able to secure a date on his own, he reached out to Siete, the leader of a different clan. His clan is also composed of assassins, and he has more members than Six does, but still only a few. He and Siete are on amiable terms because Six needed a different clan to be able to back him up in case he gets into trouble; although, he still doesn’t like interacting with Siete’s clan often.

Six sighs heavily. He thought that if he asked for a date, Siete would get Esser to go with him, not her younger twin brother.

Quatre is a nuisance in Six’s opinion, and younger than him by some years, though he isn’t sure how many, exactly. Quatre has a pretty face and a slender body, but his personality is the exact opposite of his beautiful appearance—ugly. He speaks in a polite manner, but if he doesn’t like the person he’s speaking to, his words begin to drip with sarcasm and dryness, poison on a silver tongue. His loveliness is something fake he generated to hide his ugliness, and it fools a great many people into bed with him before he assassinates them. Six didn’t have an opinion on him when they first met, but when Quatre suddenly made his hatred for Six clear, Six responded in kind because it was the only thing he knew how to do.

But, grudgingly, Six will credit Quatre. He _is_ an excellent seducer, and always completes his assassinations perfectly. He’s the only one of Siete’s clan that works as a seducer, though; his sister executes through her precise gunshots, Siete traps his prey and executes them, and Song hunts her targets with a bow that never misses. If an inside job is needed, Quatre normally has to take it up, since the others don’t have quite the…charm Quatre does.

“Sorry, _amigo_ ; Esser and Song are out on assignments right now, and it’s not like I can go with you, so you’ve gotta take Quatre,” Siete explains. Six feels a pulse of annoyance, but it isn’t as if he can ask Siete to find someone else for him. Siete is already doing him a huge favor by lending him Quatre, and he doesn’t want to owe the man any more than this.

Quatre scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You don’t have to make it sound like you’re handing off an unwanted child,” he mutters, and there’s something more to his voice that Six doesn’t recognize. He isn’t sure if he wants to know what it is.

Siete’s face softens, and he ruffles Quatre’s hair again. “Aw, come on, kid. You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I had another option,” he says, trying to soothe Quatre. Instead of that, though, a vein pops on the younger’s forehead.

“You didn’t ask me at all!”

Siete starts to sweat. Six sighs, taking pity on the blond. He must have his hands full all the time with Quatre’s high-maintenance personality always around. “Oi, Quatre. I don’t like this either, but I have to do this assignment, so I need your cooperation. Don’t take your irritation out on your leader,” Six orders, crossing his arms. Quatre turns on him, sneer curling his lip.

“Oh, don’t worry, _Six-san_. I have plenty of irritation to take out on you, too. But while Toumoku is still here, I have a bone to pick with him,” Quatre growls, turning around. Siete does the smart thing and runs, but that unfortunately leaves Six alone with Quatre, who is gnashing his teeth. _“Toumoku!”_

Quatre doesn’t chase after him, though, which surprises Six. He expected Quatre to leave at the first opportunity, because he doesn’t care about Six, which means he wouldn’t care if he finishes his assignment or not. Quatre turns to Six with a glare, putting a hand on his hip as he points accusingly at him. “I’m stuck with you until the party, and as much as I _loathe_ this situation, the man you’re trying to assassinate is disgusting, so I’ll suffer through it. Just do everything I say, and maybe both of us will still be alive by the end of the week.”

Six thinks that’s a highly optimistic thing for Quatre to say, but he doesn’t argue and just shrugs his shoulders. “Fine.”

Quatre narrows his eyes. What color are they anyway? Six can never tell if they’re violet or gold.

“Good.”

* * *

 

“I want to lead,” Quatre mutters, sourly, but he clasps Six’s right hand with his left hand and he places Six’s left hand on his waist before placing his right hand on Six’s shoulder. Six is incredibly uncomfortable holding what is essentially a ticking time bomb, and Quatre must feel it because he glares up at him. “It isn’t as if I’m enjoying this, either. I’ve killed people with better personalities than you.”

Six glares down at him. “You son of a bitch—” He starts, but Quatre silences him by squeezing his hand. Hard.

Quatre smiles sweetly, the gesture dripping in falsity. “You shouldn’t insult your teacher like that, _Six-san_ ,” he reminds him with a light tone of voice, but the edge in it promises a thousand different ways of torture. Six isn’t intimidated—Quatre may be a good assassin, but Six is much stronger, and much better built than Quatre. Honestly, holding him close like this is just making him realize how slim Quatre is, as if he hardly has any muscle at all. Six decides to point that out.

“Do you honestly think I’m scared of some rail-thin brat?” Six scoffs, rolling his eyes. He notices Quatre narrowing his eyes, and he pushes on, determined to pay him back for that low blow earlier. “You’re so thin that I’m sure you have to rely on gimmicks to assassinate your targets. You look so weak that you’d probably lose straight up in a fight of strength.”

Quatre’s eyes widen, stricken. Six bathes in his victory—but only for a moment. A look of absolute _fury_ appears on Quatre’s face, and he jerks his hands away from Six as if they’re on fire, and he reaches for something on his back—and stops. “Fuck you, Toumoku,” Quatre swears under his breath, voice trembling. He looks at Six like he wants to scream at him, and Six fully expects him to. But, suddenly, his voice catches in his throat, and he turns away, stalking toward the only guest room Six’s small house has. Just before he disappears inside of it, Six hears him mutter, “Fucking gifted _bastards_.” The door slams shut, and Six is surprised it doesn’t break.

But more than that…

The expression on Quatre’s face before he turned away was definitely one of humiliation, shame, and bitterness.

Six knows he said something he shouldn’t have, but he doesn’t know what.

…Still, it was Quatre’s fault for picking a fight with him. He doesn’t need to feel guilty at all.

* * *

 

Three hours later, Quatre resurfaces, looking no worse for wear, and wordlessly redirects Six back into the first dance position. “Step on my feet if you don’t know what you’re doing,” Quatre tells him, flatly. He doesn’t sound any different. Maybe the expression Six saw was all in his head.

Six glares at him. “I don’t need to.”

Quatre accepts that answer with a sound, and he begins to direct Six around the living room. It’s a simple slow dance, and it’s relatively easy to pick up. When Six dips Quatre, the younger eyes him warily as if wondering if he’ll drop him, but Six just rolls his eyes and brings him back up. Quatre doesn’t like being twirled and only allows Six to do it once. By the time the sun sets, Six has mastered how to slow dance—not that it was that difficult.

Quatre claps dryly. “Congratulations; you learned how to do something I learned ten years ago,” he bites, sarcastically. It’s actually somewhat relieving to have Quatre’s usual scathing comments rather than his unnerving silence, so Six welcomes the remark with a roll of his eyes.

“Keep talking like that and I won’t feed you,” Six threatens, but Quatre merely scoffs.

“I can go days without eating, and I normally do when I’m on a long assignment. I don’t care,” he declares haughtily, turning away from Six and returning to the guest room he’s claimed. Six glares at the back of his head.

Just because he’d rather have Quatre talk doesn’t mean that he enjoys his commentary.

Still, they somehow survived the first day without killing each other; although, it actually seems like Quatre is unarmed. Well, Six doesn’t care. It gives him the upper hand if they do come to blows with each other.

Grumbling under his breath about the younger’s attitude, Six heads to the kitchen to make something to eat. After eating and bathing, he’ll go to sleep. He always rises early to practice his assassination techniques after all.

* * *

 

“Rise and shine, _Six-san_. Actually, how can you sleep with this thing on,” a voice mutters next to Six, and he feels something being lifted from his face. His eyes snap open when he realizes that it’s his mask, and he frantically reaches for it, but Quatre holds it away from him, lifting an eyebrow at the panicked expression on Six’s face.

“I—I n—need that, s—so…!” Six tries to shout, but his voice comes out squeaky, and he wants to die of humiliation. Of all people to witness his terrible social skills, he wanted Quatre to see it the least.

Quatre’s eyebrow rises higher. “Your voice is the most cringe-y thing I’ve ever heard,” he tells him, bluntly. He glances down at the mask in his hand, frowning at it. “Hmm…so you can’t stand to have your mask off your face…”

“Y—Yes, so…”

Quatre rolls his eyes, turning his back on Six. He isn’t wearing his cloak today, so his back is very much exposed due to the deep ‘V’ on the back of his top. “You’re going to need to practice speaking without it on. What do you think is going to happen if you walk into that party with this mask on?” Quatre asks, carelessly waving his mask around. Six opens his mouth to tell him to stop, but he pauses, realizing the implications of Quatre’s words—or, more accurately, warning.

Six is known by his mask since he wears it everywhere, so if he walks into the party with his mask on, he’ll be revealed immediately. The safest thing to do would be to walk in without his mask. But he doesn’t want anyone to see his real face…

Quatre takes his silence as defeat. “That’s what I thought. I’ll be holding onto this until you can speak normally without it,” Quatre sighs, tucking it under his arm. Six makes a strangled noise of protest, and Quatre glances back at him before he walks out of the room. He smirks. “Learn how to deal with it.”

The door slams shut after him, and Six considers staying bed all day.

* * *

 

He doesn’t. He gets up, and he eats something light for breakfast, and then he heads into his training room to practice his assassination techniques. On his way to the room, he spotted Quatre lounging in his library that goes fairly unused, and the younger had been reading a rather thick book, Six’s mask resting at his side. When Six considered going inside to try to get it back, Quatre had looked up and leveled a glare on him until he moved on.

Ha hates being without his mask. It makes him feel exposed and self-conscious. He wishes that it wasn’t this way, but it’s just how it is. Because he grew up as an outsider to his clan, he began to prefer to wear a mask over his face to cover up his hurt expression as he heard people whispering about him behind his back. Even after he had killed everyone, he continued to wear his mask, hiding his emotions behind it. He’s relied on it for so long that he barely knows how to function without it.

But, because Quatre is forcing him, he’ll have to get used to it. 

Alone, it isn’t that bad. As Six loses himself in his training, he completely forgets about his mask. He forgets about his problems, his upcoming target, Quatre, his mask—he forgets all of it as he claws through target after target.

He reluctantly leaves the training room to get a drink of water, but he pauses in the living room when he sees that Quatre has migrated over to it. He’s lying down on the couch, frowning lightly as he plays with something in his hands. Six looks closer and sees that he’s messing with his mask, doing something to it. Seeing that is enough to make Six forget about his anxiety, and he steps forward, snapping, “What are you doing with my mask?”

Quatre’s head jolts up in surprise, and he stares at Six with wide eyes. After a few seconds, though, his eyes narrow in contempt, and he huffs, turning back to Six’s mask. “I’m only cleaning it; you don’t need to snap,” Quatre bites back, continuing with his task. Six blinks in surprise and looks back down. Sure enough, Quatre is gently rubbing a cleaning cloth over the surface of the mask.

“…Oh.” Six knows that he sounds dumbfounded, and the realization that he snapped at Quatre for nothing makes a blush rise to his face. He looks away, but he doesn’t apologize. Quatre clicks his tongue.

“You seriously need to work on your social skills,” Quatre mutters, and Six feels a vein pop on his forehead.

Quatre, with his tongue laced with poison and his toxic personality, is the last person Six wants to hear that from.

He feels too humiliated to say that, though, and retreats into the kitchen to get some water.

“It’s not like you’re a ray of sunshine, either,” Six mutters under his breath, vindictively, as he sets down his glass in the sink to wash later. He notices the plate he left in it earlier has disappeared, and a quick examination of the drying rack reveals it to be washed. Six glances out into the living room, watching as Quatre mutters a curse as he tackles a particularly stubborn scratch on Six’s mask.

He can never tell what the other is thinking, and is convinced it would be bad for himself if he ever tried to find out.

So he leaves him alone.

* * *

 

Quatre tidies up Six’s house like he’s his maid, but he’s definitely not his maid because maids don’t swear every minute as they pick up after their payer’s mess. Probably.

Six isn’t even sure why he’s doing it, but when Six gives him one too many curious glances, Quatre slams the mop back into its bucket, glaring at Six as he grips the mop stick. “I literally have nothing to do, and this place is an absolute pigsty, so I’m cleaning it. If you don’t like it, then you should do it yourself,” he snarls, angrily yanking the mop out of the bucket starting to mop the floor again. Six wants to retort, but he still doesn’t have his mask and he isn’t even sure what to say about the strange situation, so he stays silent.

He’s currently mapping out his target’s house, which is where the party will be held. The layout is fairly simple and straightforward. There are four hallways leading out of the ballroom, and Six has already scoped out the perfect place to keep an eye on all four, so that’s covered. When he arrives at the party, he’ll need to take account of the guards, especially the ones sticking to his target’s side. He’ll probably need to take out his bodyguards before he can take out his target.

Quatre finishes tidying up his house while he’s planning the assassination, and when he passes by the desk Six is using to plan, he peers over briefly. “He always goes into this hallway to go back to his bedroom and make review everything to make sure it’s going smoothly,” Quatre says, pointing out the hallway near the back left of the ballroom. Six looks up at him in surprise, but Quatre doesn’t meet his gaze, crossing his arms as he goes on. “He has surveillance cameras everywhere because he’s paranoid. The time he usually goes back is a little after 2200.”

Six narrows his eyes, too curious to falter. “How do you know all this?”

Quatre casts him a sideways glance, snorting. “I’ve been to a dozen of his parties. I’m always observing my surroundings, so I picked up the pattern after the first few parties.”

“Have you slept with him?” Six asks, confused. Quatre glares at him.

“No, I haven’t. If I had, he would be dead,” Quatre points out with a roll of his eyes. Six supposes he has a point, so he doesn’t retort against the annoyance seeping out of Quatre’s voice. “I’ve assassinated some people who attend his parties, though.”

“Your cover hasn’t been blown yet?”

Quatre seems to take a lot of offense to that, turning on Six and glaring fiercely. “Exactly who do you think you’re talking to?” He asks with gritted teeth, voice dripping with venom. Six stares back at him, unintimidated even without his mask.

“You’ve been to a dozen of his parties. It was a logical question. After being to so many, and killing people at them, you might have come under suspicion,” Six points out, crossing his arms. Quatre narrows his eyes at him, but he doesn’t yell.

He scoffs, turning and walking away. “I haven’t.”

And the conversation ends as abruptly as it began.

* * *

 

The next day, Six is wondering if Quatre has eaten anything (certainly nothing from his stock, because he’s been checking) when Quatre suddenly sits across from him at the table. When Six shoots him a wary glance, wishing he had his mask—which is resting against Quatre’s hip—Quatre sighs.

“You need social training for the party so you don’t clam up when someone talks to you. You’ll look suspicious. Let’s practice.”

Six has already begun to get used to talking to Quatre without his mask on, but since there will be many more people at the party, he can’t see how talking to just Quatre will help. Still, he doesn’t mention that aloud yet, and instead asks, “Why are you helping me so much?” Quatre isn’t kind, especially to people he hates. He’s childish in that he holds onto grudges for so long, but Six thinks it would be odder if Quatre suddenly stopped hating him, so.

Quatre glares at him, irritated. “I’m not doing this as a favor to you. I don’t do things half-assed, and Toumoku sent me here to help you. I can’t allow him to look bad, so I’m helping you. Simple as that.”

Six feels relieved at the blunt answer, glad that Quatre didn’t suddenly have a change of heart. It would be too strange to have Quatre be nice to him. Civility would also be strange, but Quatre had been more or less civil yesterday, so Six thinks it isn’t that bad. Honestly, he prefers it to being constantly at each other’s throats. Being angry all the time drains his energy.

He wonders how Quatre manages to be angry so often.

“Enough. Let’s just start with basic questions. Once you get used to them, we’ll go outside and get you desensitized to being around people without your mask on.”

Six feels a jolt of uneasiness at that, but he needs to complete this assignment, so he doesn’t say anything. This assignment is turning out to be much more of a hassle than he had originally thought it would be, and he’s beginning to regret taking it. But it’s too late to back out now, so he decides to endure it.

If Quatre is curious about why he has such a hard time without his mask on, he doesn’t ask. He’s surprisingly thorough, and after a couple of hours, Six is able to smoothly answer his questions, even the invasive ones. Quatre seems satisfied with that, and he stands, beckoning Six to stand with him. As reluctant as he is, he stands up as well.

The trip into the town near where Six lives is disastrous in his opinion. He tries to hide his face at all times, and whenever Quatre stops to introduce themselves to someone, Six can only manage a stammer, and he keeps getting weird looks in return. Quatre seems exasperated by the time they reach the other end of town.

“Can’t you be normal?” Quatre sighs, staring into a store’s window. Six feels a familiar pang of resentment at the words, and he forgets that they’re outside, whirling on Quatre with a glare.

“Sorry I can’t be normal,” he snaps vehemently, pain edged in behind his words. Quatre looks at him in surprise, but Six is already storming off, heading back to his house. As Six runs through the small town, he ignores the sting in his eyes.

It wasn’t as if he asked to be born a monster.

* * *

 

Any sense of civility that developed over Quatre’s stay at Six’s house disappears in the blink of an eye. They don’t speak to each other and keep to themselves, the air tense whenever they’re near each other. Six is content to let it stay this way. After all, when Quatre leaves, it’ll just be the same routine—they’ll clash every time they meet each other. That’s just how they are.

The night before the party arrives, and Six is in his room, making sure all his preparations are complete when he hears a knock at the door. He considers ignoring it entirely, but Quatre went out of his way to knock and not barge in. The better part of Six (which is very small) wins out, and he sighs. “Come in.”

Quatre opens the door, but he doesn’t step foot inside. He’s only wearing an airy top that hangs off his shoulders and shorts, and Six knows that his wardrobe is generally composed of indecent things, but it’s strange to have to experience his…unique tastes in person.

“Come down to the living room,” Quatre says, simply, turning around to go downstairs. Six considers disobeying and staying inside his room, but he’s feeling particularly generous tonight. Even if he is still angry about Quatre’s insensitive words, he won’t have to deal with him after tomorrow night. He might as well as see where this goes.

When Six arrives in the living room, he sees Quatre standing to the side, pushing away his coffee table to make more room on the floor. Quatre sets down his mask on the coffee table before beckoning Six closer. When Six approaches, Quatre takes his hands, adjusting him into the first position. Six is surprised, and narrows his eyes at the slightly shorter man.

“I know how to slow dance,” Six points out.

Quatre hums, gripping Six’s hands tightly. His temper seems to be stable, considering he hasn’t gotten angry yet. “You do. But we’ll practice other dances so you don’t look silly,” he notes, tone patronizing. Six wants to snap at him, but he holds his tongue on that.

“…I thought you wanted to lead.”

Quatre glances at him in amusement for maybe the first time in their years of knowing each other. Lips curving up into a wry smile that looks much better than his scowls and smirks, he tells him, “I never lead. But I do know how to lead from my position.”

Six squints at him. “Was that an innuendo.”

Quatre just snorts, holding true to his word as he directs the pace of the dance. They dance in silence for a while before Quatre suddenly says, “Only if you want it to be.”

Six glares down at him. Quatre smiles teasingly.

This is new. Quatre has never gone five minutes without getting angry at him, or reminding him about his deep hatred for him. He has no idea what changed in their last few days of not speaking.

As if sensing his befuddlement, Quatre sighs. “It isn’t as if we’ll be spending much more time together after this. Besides, we managed to get through this week without killing each other. I decided to try to be civil on our last night together.” Quatre peers up at him. Six still doesn’t know what color his eyes are. “Truce? I’ll be nice if you are,” he says. His voice wavers a little. It’s the first time Six has ever seen Quatre be uncertain—he’s always so full of confidence, every movement and word measured.

It’s unexpectedly refreshing.

Six feels at ease. “Truce,” he agrees, easily. Quatre nods, directing him to go a little faster. They dance for a while before curiosity gets the better of Six, and he breaks the silence. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Quatre casts him a sullen look as if reprimanding him for breaking the amiable silence. Still, he replies, “That isn’t any of your business. Besides, you hate me too.”

Six narrows his eyes, pursing his lips. “I don’t,” he reveals, resolute. “I only responded to hate with hate. It was a natural reaction.”

Quatre’s eyes widen, and he looks stunned. He’s frozen for good amount of time, and Six is beginning to think he won’t answer when he suddenly laughs, dryly. Six is confused. “Isn’t it childish to respond to hate like that, _Six-san_?” He taunts, lifting an eyebrow at him. Six responds with a glare.

“Isn’t it childish to decide to hate someone when you don’t even know who they are?”

Six thinks he’s won when a dark look crosses Quatre’s face, but… “I knew enough,” Quatre mutters, barely audible. Six stops. Quatre does as well.

“It is my business,” Six says, responding to something Quatre said earlier. “It’s my business because it concerns me. Now, tell me; why do you hate me so much?”

Quatre grits his teeth. He tries to tug his hands away, but Six catches his wrists, gripping them tightly. Quatre barely conceals his wince, and Six feels a pang in his chest. Quatre’s wrists are so…thin.

“You want to know?” Quatre snaps, pushing his face up to get closer to Six’s. Six leans back, glaring down at Quatre, but he nods. Quatre lets out a laugh that’s hard to describe. It’s so thick and heavy with emotion, but Six does recognize one emotion in it—bitterness. That same expression that Six thought he had imagined is on his face now. “It’s because you’re so damn strong! You’re _so strong_ , but you disregard that strength like it isn’t important!”

“It’s not!”

Utter _rage_ fills Quatre’s eyes. “Of course it is! Strength is _so important_ to being able to do anything! If you’re not strong, you can’t reach higher, and—”

Six cuts him off, gripping Quatre’s wrists so tightly that they might shatter, but he’s too angry to care. “Is that really all you fucking care about?” Six demands, watching as Quatre’s expression morphs into a sneer. “Moving up in the world isn’t that great. When…” Six falters, voice cracking. Closing his eyes, he grits out, “When you’re as strong as I am, you’re considered a monster, and everyone abandons you. You’re fucking lucky. You have your sister, and Siete, and even Song—I have no one.”

Six lets out a shuddering breath.

“Being strong isn’t worth anything.”

If he wasn’t this strong, he wouldn’t be called a monster. If he wasn’t this strong, his entire clan wouldn’t have turned against him. Of course, he doesn’t want to be _weak_ , but this strength has no merit. All it’s done is made him isolated from everyone else, hopelessly alone.

Being given this strength isn’t a blessing—it’s a curse.

“It is worth _everything_.”

Six’s eyes snap open, and he’s ready, this time. He wants to crush Quatre, wants to crush him and that snide mouth of his that can’t concede anything, crush that brain that doesn’t understand anything, crush that heart that is so cold.

But when he opens his eyes, all he sees are pretty eyes filled with tears of anguish.

Quatre glares at him even through his tears, voice shaking with every word. “Your strength is how much you are worth, because your strength lets you protect the people you love. Being strong is being able to protect the ones dear to you. I don’t long for strength because I _want_ to; it is because I _need_ to.” Quatre takes a deep breath, sides shivering. Six’s grip on his wrists loosens marginally. “I have a family. I need to protect them, and the only way I can do that is to be strong. You’re right; I am lucky to have such a wonderful family. But I’m not strong enough to protect them.” Quatre’s voice breaks.

“I’m not strong. I just pretend to be, full of a bravado that I can only hope convinces people that I can do something. But the reality is, I’m worthless.”

And Six realizes that he never understood Quatre at all.

Quatre is a fake indeed, but not the kind that Six had thought he was. All of his bravado, all of the words he’s spouted, has all been a façade to hide the fact that he’s undeniably, incredibly…

Six releases Quatre’s wrists, fingers brushing against the bones sharply jutting out of his skin.

…weak.

“I say all these things to try to come off as strong and confident,” Quatre murmurs, hands falling to his sides. He suddenly looks up at Six with a fierce light in his eyes, refusing utter defeat. “I can fight. I won’t just roll over and die. But my strength is never enough. All the words I yell will never be able to fill in the gaps, but I still yell them in a futile effort. At the end of the day, though, I am still weak, and I am still not enough. I train and I train and I train and still, still…”

Quatre looks down at the ground, shoulders slumping.

“And it’s still not enough.”

Somehow Quatre looks incredibly…lonely.

Six isn’t sure what to say, because he’s never been good at talking to people. He says the only thing he can think of, “My entire clan tried to kill me when I was younger.”

Quatre looks up at him with wide eyes. Six decides to go with his impulsive decision. “I was viewed as a monster by them because I was so young, yet I was clearly going to grow up and be the strongest person the clan had ever seen. One day, they tried to kill me, so I did the only thing I could. I killed them instead. I even killed my father, but I later learned that he was actually trying to protect me. Of course, I regret what I did to him, but there is no changing the past.

“I don’t have a reason to be strong like you do. You fight for your family; I think it’s a noble cause. I have no one to fight for.”

Six’s voice is laden with somberness at the end. He wishes he had someone, but he has no one. He has grown used to it, but that doesn’t fill the hole in his chest. All he really wants is to have someone—but he’s a monster.

He can’t have anyone.

Quatre stares at him in silence for a long moment. A soft, rueful laugh breaks it. “I was wrong to hate you,” he admits, lowering his head to gaze at his feet. “It was childish of me, but it was easier to take out my anger on you and your strength than admit that I was just weak. I shouldn’t have given you such a hard time. I apologize.”

Quatre’s voice is sincere. This person is completely different than the person Six has been dealing with for the last five years.

It isn’t bad.

“I’ll apologize too. I’ve said some pretty shitty things to you.”

Quatre chuckles. “I’m pretty sure my comments were more scathing, but thank you.”

Quatre’s expression is still lonely. Six wonders how much he’s forced himself to shoulder, all the burdens and expectations he’s placed on himself. Quatre is still young. He has his whole life ahead of him.

But, just like Six, he’s let himself fall into assassination, a path that is not so easy to leave.

Six reaches out. Quatre’s face is small, so it isn’t hard to cradle his jaw in his hand, fingers brushing against his lavender hair. Quatre narrows his eyes at him, but he doesn’t force Six’s hand away. “What are you doing, Six-san?”

It’s the first time he hasn’t said his name with contempt.

“I want to forget for a while. Don’t you want to, as well?”

It’s inconsiderate of him, and wrong, but Six wants this more than he’d like to admit. Quatre is gorgeous, Six has always known that—but it’s so much easier to see it now that Quatre is being civil with him. There is something magnetic about Quatre, something mystifying—surely, it’s why so many men have fallen into his bed before.

Six doesn’t exactly mind being another one of them.

Their issues aren’t resolved—not yet. But they both need a break. Six knows it.

When Quatre’s lips curl into a coy smile, Six feels relieved. Quatre places a calloused hand on his—his hands are a bit smaller than Six’s, fingers lithe and nimble, but the callouses indicate just how hard he works. “Are you that interested me?” Quatre asks, amused, slowly closing the gap in between them. Six watches as he stops with his lips a hair’s breadth away from Six’s. Quatre’s eyes are half-lidded. “I’m awfully flattered to have caught such an attractive man’s attention.”

Six is unfamiliar with this entire thing, but he does know he wants to kiss Quatre, so he does, partially because he wants to and partially to shut him up. It works excellently. Quatre sighs into the kiss, hand coming up to entangle itself in Six’s hair. He takes the kiss as a leisurely walk while Six feels like he’s struggling to catch up.

Quatre laughs quietly into the kiss, and he breaks away to place a kiss on Six’s neck, making him shiver. “You’ll get better with a little practice,” he reassures him, pulling back to smile mischievously at him. “And if you need a practice partner…”

Six grunts, wanting to pay him back for the kiss, so he goes for Quatre’s exposed collarbone, mouthing along it with enough force to leave a bruise on Quatre’s pale skin. Quatre gasps a little, hand tugging at Six’s hair. Six is about to break away when Quatre’s hand pushes him back. “No, stay there,” Quatre orders, voice breathy. Six obeys, planting more kisses on his neck. Quatre groans, hands sliding down to Six’s shoulders.

Six barely has time to react and grab Quatre’s thighs when the other man suddenly lifts his lower half, wrapping his legs around Six’s waist. Six balances Quatre in his arms, giving his thighs a squeeze as he pulls his head back to look at Quatre in the eye. Quatre’s eyes are getting clouded, and Six is sure he looks the same.

“Are you leading?” Six asks, smiling just a little bit. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this light. Talking about his burdens…It helped, even if everything isn't resolved yet.

Quatre smiles, understanding what he’s getting at. It looks like talking has helped him, too. “I know how to lead from my position,” Quatre whispers against Six’s neck, legs squeezing around his waist. Six groans, stumbling toward the stairs. It’ll be a miracle if they make it up the stairs.

He knows one thing: he is very much looking forward to the rest of tonight.

* * *

 

The sun is rising when Six rolls over, hooking an arm around Quatre’s waist. Quatre hums, allowing him to hold him. Six takes it since he isn’t sure when the next time, if there ever is a next time, he’ll be able to do this is.

“You were cute,” Quatre teases, rolling over to face him. Six blushes, averting his eyes, and Quatre coos, patting his cheeks. Six tries not to bat his hands away. “You were so concerned about me—it’s been a while since I’ve been with someone that was concerned like that. Also, you’re very cute when you blush.”

Knowing that Quatre is just saying that to get a rise out of him, Six ignores him. “Isn’t it natural to be concerned about your partner?” Six grumbles. Quatre chuckles, scooting closer to place lazy kisses on Six’s neck. Six finds that he doesn’t mind; there are already a few bruises on Quatre’s neck.

“Only nice people are concerned about that.”

Six frowns. Sensing that, Quatre kisses the underside of his jaw. “Don’t worry. It just makes killing them afterward all the more satisfying.”

Six furrows his brow. “…Don’t you ever sleep with people that aren’t targets?” Six asks, curious. Quatre pauses.

“No. You’re the first.”

Somehow, he’s glad to hear that.

Moving on, he brushes his fingers through Quatre’s hair. Quatre had undone his braid at some point. His hair is soft, and it falls to his chest. Six likes it like this. “You’re more affectionate than I thought,” Six points out, feeling Quatre place another kiss on his throat.

“Only if I’m feeling amiable. Don’t expect this often.”

Six just chuckles.

“And, you—you’re cuter than I thought. What happened to your ever-cool personality?” Quatre prods, pulling back to look at Six, who rolls his eyes.

“I’m not cute. And, I let my guard down since we slept together. My personality isn’t the best in the world.”

Quatre snorts. “Look at who you’re talking to. I have a shit personality—even I can admit that.”

Six decides that there really isn’t anything he can say about that, so they lie there for a while, the only sounds their breathing and Six’s fingers running through Quatre’s hair. When sunlight begins to poke through the curtains, Quatre sighs, and he reaches up to tug Six’s head down against his chest.

“Let’s sleep. You need your energy for your assignment tonight.”

Six closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around Quatre’s body. He feels too thin, but he doesn’t mention that, not wanting to ruin the other man’s already fragile pride.

“Yeah.”  
  
He and Quatre can figure out whatever this is some other time.

For now, he takes comfort in having another person sleep beside him for the first time in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> I could go on a whole tangent about them tbh but I do that enough already and I have gone on tangents about them before because their 5* fate eps made me Feel Things
> 
> I didn't like it as much toward the end, because I think it broke character, but oh well. I almost never see anything about Six's more serious side, but this is basically how he and Quatre interact, I think? I think Six treats Quatre with contempt because that's how Quatre treats him. Still, I think he's shy with affection, but uhh, I realize I didn't make him very shy with that... I think Quatre is quite prickly, but if you get past his outer guard, he's surprisingly caring (and affectionate? maybe. I just wanted him to give Six a lot of kisses if I'm being honest.) Oh and this is quite irrelevant, but in the fic when Quatre was cleaning Six's house it's because he's used to cleaning up after the kids, so it was actually a habit
> 
> tl;dr I think they're good boys but...well I think Quatre is misunderstood more often than Six lol...I love complex characters like Quatre though...


End file.
